Drowning in Our Pasts
by RickyIsAShe
Summary: Eugene goes missing and Fetch is reunited with some unsavory characters from her past. Delsin dives into his bloodline to discover his family is not what it made itself out to be. While preoccupied with their pasts, a shadow drifts over Seattle and clouds the trio's future. (Set after the True Hero ending)
1. Chapter 1

Fetch cast a stone into the air, watching eagerly as it plummeted towards the water only to be obliterated by a large beam of power which didn't belong to the pink-haired conduit.

"Good shot, D" she complimented his marksmanship. Delsin flashed some neon in the palm of his hand.

"I never miss" he smirked, jumping down from his perch above her and joining her by the railing at the edge of the building. "I bet you fifty bucks that I can hit the next stone you throw before it hits the water"

"Really? You're on" she said, stooping down to pick up another rock and tossing it into the air. Delsin squinted into the setting sun and took aim. A shot, and miss. A second shot, yet another miss. The stone dropped into the water below with a plop and Fetch sighed. "Well at least ya tried" she teased "pay up, big guy".

"No way, the sun was in my eyes!"

"Well you had no problem hitting one a few minutes ago... You know, when ya told me you 'never miss'"

He sighed. "Fiiiiine". He reached into the pocket of his light grey jeans and pulled out his wallet, fumbling with some coins before pulling out a fifty dollar bill and handing it to his fellow conduit.

"Pleasure doing business with ya"

Silence fell over them as the sound of the harbour sank in. They had met on the ferry terminal building as it was reasonably quiet and the sunset was pretty clear from there. Plus it was across from a place Fetch had been watching for drug activity but today was her day off. In fairness, it was Delsin's day off too. He thought back to his days at the Tribe, before he got his powers. All day, every day it was work, work and more work. If he wasn't honing his art skills around the reserve he was working with Betty to decorate the longhouse or entertain the youths. Any spare time he had was spent evading the police for his vandalism... Avoiding Reggie. A thought struck him.

"You heard from Eugene lately?" He'd figured the teen would want to be alone in his lair and left him to his own devices, however that was nearly a week ago. They hadn't spoken since.

"Nah, dude's a lil' shy though so I'm tryna give him some space, ya know?" She fixed her posture, taking her eyes away from the golden-orange sunset and stooping to pick up another stone to throw.

"Yeah, so have I. So... Got any plans for the future? if- uh, you don't mind me askin'" Fetch tossed the stone lazily and it fell rather quickly. That didn't stop Delsin from blasting it, even if he missed a few times, slighty worried that his neon bolts would accidentally kill a fish, or something.

"I don't know... Plenty of dealers still around." She sighed again, leaning against the railing.

"Well you're going to run out of cannon fodder some day" He said joining her. They stood for a few minutes, watching the sun dance along the gentle waves and examining the small boats which bobbed along them. Delsin turned to Fetch. "You wanna get outta here?" he enquired.

She thought for a second. "Sure, ain't like I got anythin' better to do" and with that they stood and sped off in a glorious haze of neon.

* * *

 **Ok, so I've been tossing the idea of writing an InFAMOUS fic about in my head for a while now and so here you go. Apologies for any spelling or grammar errors. I don't have a reason for them I'm just bad at writing. Go me! There isn't enough FetchxDelsin out there, so sorry Delgene but this one's for Detch shippers. I want to throw in a lot of fluff later so beware. Eugene and the Tribe will be in later chapters, don't worry. I don't know how far I plan on going with this either so... yeah. Heh. I'll be updating hopefully every Sunday.**

 **(This chapter and another three after it were actually drafts which I changed dramatically. I wanted to add in my own OC but I changed them back to Delsin. The original plot was uninteresting and I quickly scrapped it so sorry for any discrepancies in advance)**


	2. Chapter 2

11:21 AM

Fetch woke up to the blinding sunlight which seemed to pierce through her skull like a laser. "Ugh" She scoffed, pushing herself up and examining the unfamiliar surroundings she found herself in. "How much did I drink last night?". Her head ached, her body ached and she could swear that the bruise on her stomach was a bullethole at some point. She twisted herself around slightly and spotted Delsin under the covers beside her, just as bruised and probably just as hungover. Barfight maybe?

Standing, she scooped up her clothing and passed through the bedroom doorway, dressing herself as she walked, or hopped, when the time came to put on footwear. "Swanky" she said to herself, admiring Delsin's apartment. For someone who is a fresh face in Seattle, he did pretty well in securing himself a decent place to stay. Maybe it was gifted to him for clearing out the Dupes. The walls were some kind of uninteresting beige but had peculiar paintings and hung on them. The dining room was connected to the kitchen and three cornered couches surrounded a television in the living room.

After a small bit of exploration Fetch arrived at what she presumed was the exit. Reaching out she placed her hand on the cold steel and pushed it down. The door didn't budge. Great. It was _locked._ Of course it was _locked_. Why did it have to be _locked?_ She let out a sigh of frustration and headed for a window. The sun was going to destroy her motivation to live with the power of blinding light and try its best to make her hangover and day three thousand percent worse, however she would persevere, "I'm not a quitter" she said to herself. _Besides_ this wasn't the first time she'd climbed out of a supposedly rich guys window, for reasons, illegal or not.

Four flights of metal mesh stairs and and every swear in her vocabulary later and Fetch was just about ready to take back what she said about not being a quitter. "Fuuuuuck" She forced, placing her back to the wall and sliding down it. "Why do I have to make such poor life decisions?"

It took nearly thirty minutes of grunting and protest before Fetch reached the bottom of the death stairs. She closed her eyes as tightly as her headache would allow her and shied away from the neon resonating from a bar sign into her system. She jetted home, eyes squinting, blocking her view and _almost_ causing her to crash twice. She arrived at the door of a tiny one bedroom apartment in a bad part of town. Better than a billboard. Besides, it was like the drug capital of Seattle so there was plenty to do.

She opened the door with a struggle, as the damn hinges were always getting stuck and sighed with relief as she stepped into the dimly lit main room, thanking past Fetch for closing the blinds before she went out. She unintentionally slammed the door, earning the protest of her neighbour who she had a sneaking suspicion was a male prostitute and backed into her home. One she had no threat of being thrown out of. So long as she kept paying her rent, of course. Which didn't cost much, for obvious reasons. Just then there was a silent "mew" beside her. Brent the short tailed burmese kitten demanded food. After feeding the beast she decided to skip a shower, desipite how desparately she needed one and crashed in bed.

7:52 PM

Fetch awoke from her slumber to the sound of her phone buzzing on her substitute bedside table, a cardboard box, beside her head. Her hangover was mostly gone, _mostly,_ and she was certain that if this was another _damn_ telemarketer, it would come back. She reached for the device with a groan, squinting at the bright screen and taking a moment to focus on the caller ID. Unknown. She didn't sit up. Taking a minute to compose herself, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Em..." The voice was female. "You don't remember me" Obviously.

"Oh." Fetch tried to sound surprised. "Uh... okay? Why are you calling me? Sorry, who is this?"

"I'm... A friend of yours – like, from a while back. Em. We haven't talked in a few years, you know since, uh... Yeah" She laughed nervously. Fetch didn't say anything. "I was hoping We could meet for a coffee, or something... Abigail you still there?" Fetch gritted her teeth, first of all, why was she calling her _Abigail?_ If she really knew her, she would know that she _hates_ that name. And second, how did she get her number? "Hello?" The mystery woman spoke again.

"Y-Yeah... I'm still here, sorry." She thought. Should she lie to her or...? "One second, I'll call you back in just... one second" She hung up and fumbled with the phone's keypad, pressing the wrong numbers once or twice before stuffing in the right digits. She rang, and it dialed. It dialed and dialed again. A click.

There was an unfamiliar laugh in the background and Delsin spoke with a groggy voice "Hey you, how's it going?"

"Delsin, tell me you know where Teen Angel is" She spat slighty.

"I-I don't know... Like I told you, last I saw him he was in his-" Fetch hung up.

Ok, so no Eugene to run background on the mystery girl's number. She thought for a second. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

She paused, breathed, pulled out her phone once more and called the girl back. She answered and Fetch spoke.

"Coffee at noon tomorrow?"

 **Damn this is staring off slow. I'm sorry. I've remade this chapter 3 times since it was drafted and oh my god. Can you please tell me if I'm off with the character personalities? I want to write a fanfic about these characters, not people with the same name.**


	3. Chapter 3

1:13PM

Delsin slowly peeled open an eye and examined his room. It was bright. _Too_ bright. The room was a mess. The bed sheets were in a lump beside him, there were scortch marks on the sheets, and neon burning in the walls of the room. Rough night.

With a sigh he raised his hand to his forehead and gave it a scratch for encouragement. "Today is going to be a looooong day" He pulled his hand away from his head and examined it. It was bruised, especially around his knuckles. _Oh yeah._ He remembered some of the night's events now. A bar fight with Fetch by his side. They totally hauled ass, although whatever reason they had for starting the scrap will remain a mystery forever.

Flipping his hand around he continued his inspection and noticed something out of the ordinary. Some sort of blurry black smudge on his forearm. No wait... He repositioned himself in the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. It was writing all right. He allowed his eyes to focus on it. A small tattoo, consisting of simple block capitals which read "Reggie" decorated his inner right wrist.

He smiled at it, partly happy with Drunk Delsin's choice of body ink, partly happy it wasn't a butterfly tramp stamp.

He grunted and hoisted himself out of bed, bundling his clothes together and forcing himself to shower. After an hour of cleaning himself he emerged, allowing his damp hair to fall on his shoulders and taking refuge on his couch with a bowl of cereal. He flicked through the stations on the television. Nothing interesting apart from the odd news broadcast which he revelled in to boost his ego. He pondered calling Fetch, but decided against it and instead wondered if she had anything to do with the open window in the corner.

A keen knock came to his hardwood door, and he rose to answer it, sliding across the wooden floor in his socks and abandoning his bowl of cereal on the counter as he passed. He stopped himself just short of the door, taking one foot off of the ground and hanging it behind him as he leaned and unlocked the door, pulling the it open with a firm tug. A smartly dressed man stood before him with a grin on his face.

"Hello Mr. Rowe" he began, his voice was overpowered by an unfamilliar accent. "I was hoping you could answer some questions for m-"

"Look buddy, I'm not really in the mood for an interview right now so uh" He started to push the door closed.

The man interjected, standing in the door's path so that he couldn't close it "It'll only be a minute, scout's honour" To that Delsin sighed and hoisted the door open once more, locking eyes with the man, showing off his frustration at the situation with a sigh.

The grey eyed man pulled a notepad from his pocket and flicked through it, then pulled a pen from behind his ear, clicking it eagerly as he cleared his voice. His eyes left the pad momentarily to examine Delsin's face, then returned to his notes.

"Alright Mr Rowe, let's see here." He flicked several more pages "Ah! Ahem, what would you say the chances are of the D.U.P returning to Seattle?"

Delsin rolled his eyes "Oh you have got to be kidding me... They're not coming back, alright? And even if they did, I'd give 'em a warm welcome with my foot up their ass" He seemed to have answered several questions with his rant, as his unwelcome visitor eyed his notes, then Delsin, then his notes again before flicking a page and repeating the process.

"Well um... thank you for your ti-" Delsin swung the door shut on the man with a sigh and retreated back into his apartment.

"God I hate being famous" He lamented, crashing down on the couch once more and reaching for his sketch pad. He flicked through a number of pages, all filled with elaborate drawings of eagles and rebellious symbolism, past a page of Fetch themed drawings, consisting of skulls and needles, and another of Eugene, with angels and heroes and landed on a blank sheet. It was near the end of the book which irritated him because good sketch pads cost a hell of a lot of money, something he didn't have much of, perhaps he could bust some dealers and steal a wallet from them. If only he hadn't made that stupid bet the day before. He sighed and took comfort in the sound of his pencil hissing on the paper as he scribbled.

Another knock at the door.

Not so keen but equally irritating. He tossed the sketch book onto the coffee table aggressively and stood up, freezing on the spot.

"If it's another reporter, get lost!" He called. The only reply was a second knock. He cussed to himself and returned to the door, opening it with anger and almost causing it to crash into the wall.

"Hello Delsin" A short, tanned and stocky woman stood before him with her head raised so her eyes would meet his.

"B-Betty!" He laughed nervously, thinking of the nightclub-esque neon and smoke mess in his bedroom from his busy night before, fearing that Betty might interrogate him about it. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to visit the Hero of The Tribe!" She said, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. Delsin didn't reciprocate and she invited herself into the apartment, looking around her with a certain cautious behavoir which Delsin couldn't wrap his head around. "Your apartment is a mess."

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious" He smiled at her. He watched as she strode towards his couch and sat down, flicking on the television once more and searching through some channels. In his flustered confusion he realised he had forgotten to close the door and turned to do so. His eyes widened as he turned back, watching Betty as she innocently flicked through his sketch pad, lingering on a drawing of Reggie and Delsin for a moment longer than his other works.

"I remember when you two were just little boys" She began. "Always getting eachother into trouble." She smiled but it quickly faded. Delsin didn't rush her. "Why didn't you come to the funeral?"

Delsin sighed. He didn't feel worthy, he guessed. He would never admit this to Betty or the tribe. He felt responsible for Reggie's death. But then he would never have met his new friends, or liberated Seattle, or dismantled the D.U.P. He wouldn't go back and change anything and that made him feel overwhelmingly guilty. A guilt which caused him to seclude himself from his tribe, which left him unable to look into their eyes without a pain in his chest.

Betty turned to him and caught him mid-thought. "I know it must have been difficult for you... It was difficult for all of us. Just..." She paused and took in a breath, standing up and walking towards the conduit. "If you get the chance, go and see his grave. Say your goodbyes. You owe it to him" She put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze and a slight shake, blinking the tears out of her eyes. "Now..." She steeled herself "Now that that's out of the way, let's make some dinner, I haven't eaten since I left for the city" Delsin laughed silently.

The two Natives worked together to create a meal so glorious that Delsin forgot his troubles at the smell of it cooking. They joked about some of the younger members of the tribe trying to impersonate Delsin, calling themselves his "Super sidekicks" and painting eagles on their clothing, much to the protest of their parents. They shared a laugh as they ate and discussed his plans for his future. He pondered moving back to the reserve, but he loved the city. Betty advised him to go with his instincts as it was what his father always did.

Delsin eyed the clock. It was getting late and Betty insisted on staying with the Hero of Seattle. He stood to go prepare her bed but was interrupted when his phone rang. He examined the caller ID - "Fetch".

 **I HAVE NOT UPDATED IN AGES I AM SO SORRY**

 **I've decided to change some things about the fanfic.**


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